Enough For Now
by StandingOnTheRooftops
Summary: Sometimes it's too late and you're left with nothing but regret. But sometimes, someone give you a second chance. Or in Sayid Winner's case, a third chance. Side-fic for How To Save A Life. 3x4, 1x2, 5xR mentioned. Angst, family, hurt/comfort.


_**Enough For Now**_

Set in the The Fray Universe, the AU that 'How To Save A Life' and 'Fall Away' are set in. This is a sidefic for them, a kind of bridge between How To Save A Life and the sequel, Fall Away. (If I ever get around to writing the sequel ^^) Set about halfway between the original and the sequel. That's about five months before what all happens in 'Fall Away'.

Just a little teaser dedicated to the fans of 'Life' who are all wondering about what happens next. ^-^

Warnings: Little bit of fluff, angst, and sap. Will mention the follwing pairings: 3x4, 1x2, 5xR, past 4xOC, OMCxOFC, 6xIria, and maybe others. Yaoi and Het.

Summary: Sometimes it's too late, and you're left with nothing but regret. But sometimes, someone gives you as second chance. Or in Sayid Winner's case... a third chance.

~~~~~{*}~~~~~

Thousands of miles away from Nashville, Tennessee and it's small community of Sanc, there is a place called Mauritania(1). In this sandy, hot, dry desert country, is a small oasis. And at this oasis sits a villa. A pretentious mansion that would be out of place anywhere, but rises like a ornate palace from the near-dead vastness around it.

It is in this castle, staffed by myriads of both black and Moor servants, that Sayid Winner lives with two of the eleven daughters he still claimed. Nadia, Adara, Marina, Rihana, Elaina, and Yasmin were married to nice, respectable men with nice, respectable fortunes. Emily, while single, had left to become a very successful fashion model in France. Two- Aisha and Karida- had passed on already- one from childbirth, one from illness. Tahirah and Salma were the most like him, though. They seemed more inclined to want the independent bossiness woman role. And this suited Sayid just fine. They were quite capable of running his household, his corporations, and his vast fortunes. One day, he thought he might turn over the family name to them.

This was a sore spot with Sayid. He'd had a son. A healthy, bright baby boy. Sayid had loved him with an abundance, and Katerina, his dearest Katerina, had doted on him. He was to be the future of the Winner family. The first and only son. And the last child. He was to be the one to take over the family fortune, to run the company.

But it was not to be. Katerina had died of of leukemia, and then, when the boy was grown, he refused to take business courses. He was bright, intrepid, curious, and had a sharp mind when it came to tactics. He would have been the perfect CEO for Sayid's company... except that he hated business. He'd inherited his mother's spirit, and with that, her love of music. So, when the pre-teen had refused to take the business courses- wanting to pursue a career as a violinist, instead- a battle between the Winner males had ensued.

In the end, Sayid had banished his son, disowned him and disinherited him. He'd been sent to America, sent to the other disowned Winner child, one of the youngest daughters, Iria. It had been the first contact in years he'd had with Iria. Sayid had tried to talk sense to his son years later, but apparently Quatre Winner was more than happy in America. He and Iria lived modestly off of Katerina's trust fund for them. Katerina had known her husbands tendency to over-react to things and her own inheritance from her family she'd placed into seperate funds for each of her children. And after Iria's disinheritance, she'd made sure that the funds created for her five youngest children could not be touched by her husband, and that they had no ties to the Winner fortune

It had proven to be a brilliant move on her part, as it insured that her son did not lack for anything in his new life.

And after another battle, Sayid had made it a point not to ever think of his son again. When Iria's letter informing him of Quatre's diagnosis with the same cancer that had taken his wife, Rihana, Yasmin, and Emily, the most soft-hearted of his daughters- and the youngest-, had urged him to re-open the communication lines and be there for his son. Sayid's answer had been to rip up the letter and reply, "I have no son."

Then, another letter saying the cancer was defeated came. Despite his stubbornness, Sayid was relieved. But he refused to acknowledge the relief, again saying he had no son.

Then, the recent flurry of letters. The cancer was back. Treatment was failing. A terminal diagnosis. Sayid had been tempted to call his son... but he didn't. He was stubborn as a mule when he set his mind to something. Years of pretending he didn't have a son... he'd finally started to believe it a little. So, this year, Sayid waited with a heavy heart for the letter that would tell him of his son's death. Maybe Iria would include the obituary from the local newspaper or something like that. It would be an 'Iria' thing to do.

"Father," Salma called. She knocked on the door of his study.

"Come."

His dark haired daughter stepped through, opening the door. There was a large manila envelope in her hands. Sayid's heart faltered. He just knew what was in that package.

Her brown eyes shimmered, and he could tell she did, too. Salma, his second oldest, had not been as soft-hearted as many of her sisters, and she'd not been very close to her youngest sibling. But she could still feel the pain of loss.

He nodded coolly, and held out his hand. She passed him the package. It had his name on it, but no return address. There was never a return address. And that had been the only reason he'd opened that first letter so long ago. Curiosity. If he'd have seen Iria's name, to this day, he still would have not known about his son's illness. Such was his stubbornness.

Salma paused, torn between staying and going. Sayid waved her away.

"I will inform you and Tahirah of it's contents," he stated, keeping his voice cold and hard.

With a sigh, he reached for a letter opener and he opened the end of the envelope as his daughter left, closing the door behind her. He dumped the contents onto his desk. Four smaller envelopes fell out, each one numbered. He sighed. Trust Iria.

Envelope one was picked up, opened swiftly. Sayid looked at the picture that fell out. It was a three by four and Sayid had seen it before. It was an old picture, he knew, even if the date on the back of it hadn't told him. Quatre and Kaori, the elegant script on the white backing read. Quatre, fair as his mother, sat by a fountain in a park. A girl with long, black hair sat beside him. She leaned a little towards him, speaking of love and trust. A violin was held down by her side. His hand rested atop hers where it sat on his leg, speaking of comfort. Her eyes were dark blue, and there was a smile on her lips. Her gold-dust skin was warm in the sunlight, and the entire scene seemed beautiful, dreamlike.

From the previous letters, Sayid knew that the dark haired girl, holding a violin in her hand, had been Quatre's girlfriend at one point. And that it was her who'd given the marrow transfusion that had placed the cancer in recession that first time. Quatre had been lucky to have such a friend. He wondered just what Iria was trying to say. That Quatre had had a good life there? Sayid already knew his son had enjoyed his life. That much had already been made abundantly clear.

Evelope two was dealt with as soon as the picture was set aside. Another picture was found. This one, according to the date, was much newer, only a few months old, from earlier that spring. It was of Quatre, pale skinned, matted hair, asleep. It was a hospital bed, with IV's hooked into him and monitors all around. Sayid knew without any explanations that this was his son's deathbed. He was about to set this envelope to the side, when another picture slide out. Two more, really.

The first of them, a newspaper clipping, was even more horrible than the one of Quatre, although it was a bit confusing. It had the same date on it as the one of Quatre, but this was of a car wreck. The remains of a small car scattered across an intersection at night. Streetlights, cop lights throwing eerie shadows over everything. An eighteen wheeler was almost jacknifed in the intersection, it's front end barely dented by the impact. One could just barely make out a prone, unmoving figure in the street, surrounded by doctors and police.

The next picture, Sayid swallowed back a sudden wave of nausea. Again, the same date as the other two. The caption held only one word. Kaori. But her dark hair was twisted and matted with blood. Her face was bruised, scarred almost beyond recognition. She lay on a gurney, the bright hospital lights directly overhead, illuminating all the wounds. Jagged cuts, dark bruises, blood everywhere. One arm was twisted in a horrid position, and her legs looked limp. The expression on her face was one of torrential pain.

Sayid hurriedly set these aside. What was his daughter saying? Why? Envelope Three was nearly ripped open in his haste, but he quickly calmed himself, gently removing the folded newspaper articles that he'd expected. He swallowed, but unfolded it gingerly and read the headline. It was the front page. Beneath the article was a picture of the crash scene, one of Kaori with another dark haired-blue eyed man, and one of Quatre, but it was really the bold headline that caught his attention.

**'LOCAL VIOLINIST GIVES LIFE, HEART TO SAVE BEST FRIEND'**

His breath caught as he read the article. Apparently, the accident had occurred near the medical center. Kaori had been leaving the hospital when the semi had plowed into her car. The girl hadn't been beyond help- there was a very slim chance she might have survived, but the doctors on the scene knew her as the friend of the comatose patient. And Quatre's doctor knew her as the marrow donor for her patient and had understood Kaori's last words. It was simple after that. The dying girl's heart had been transplanted into the dying boy's. The transplant was successful.

Sayid's breath tumbled out slowly as shaking hands set the article aside, moving to the next. The obituary for one Kaori Kinomoto, born Kaori Elizabeth Lowe, daughter of Odin Lowe and his wife Setsu Kinomoto Lowe, both deceased. She left behind only two relatives. A half-brother... Heero Yuy, son of Odin Lowe and Misao Yuy.... and her father's stepfather, one Doctor Jeremiah 'Jay' James, who'd been the second husband of Odin Lowe's mother, the late Elizabeth Lowe James. But despite her lack of family, she'd left behind a multitude of friends. From her best friend, Quatre; to her boyfriend; to friends from school and work- all around the community. Apparently, everyone loved the girl.

Sayid set this aside, too, before reaching for the fourth and final envelope, opening it with shaking hands. Only two items: a sheet of pale yellow stationary with his daughter's elegant script, and a picture. Sayid looked at the picture first. It was a photo of four couples paired off in front of a simple but gorgeous home in what looked to be a small subdivision. Quatre, healthy, smiling and standing beside a taller, brunette man who looked equally as pleased. Beside him stood Iria and the man Sayid knew to be her husband. Another couple, a girl with the same blue eyes as his son in law with a petite Chinese man. Beside them was another couple. A man with dark chocolate hair and dark blue eyes. Sayid recognized his picture from the obituary as Kaori's brother. The man beside him had chestnut hair and indigo eyes that smiled. Reading the back, Sayid found the date to be last week. Names were listed in order from left to right. Quatre, Trowa, Iria, Zechs, Releena, Wufei, Heero, and Duo.

He pulled the note forward and took a deep breath before reading what his daughter had to say.

_'Father...._

_"For all that you do not deserve it, Kaori Kinomoto has given you a third chance. This is twice she's given you another chance. This time, it cost her her life. Quatre is happy now. Quatre is loved. But he still doesn't have a father._

_'Don't screw this up again.'_

_'Iria Merquis'_

Sayid pulled that last picture forward again. He looked closer. The brunette, Trowa, had a hand possessively around Quatre's waist, and his green eyes looked softly at the petite blond he held close. Sayid wasn't quiet sure how he felt about the fact that his son appeared to be gay. It was something he'd not thought about before. He supposed he should be content with the fact that his son was healthy, alive, and happy. And Quatre did seem happy. He did seem loved. He'd gotten another chance at life, and it seemed he wasn't going to take it for granted.

Sayid blinked back tears that threatened. He was growing old far too quickly. And his daughter, through the actions of a young girl, had just showed him that life was fragile and uncertain. It wouldn't do to waste the little time he was given.

He nearly laughed at his daughter's words. "Don't screw this up again."

"I won't," he spoke aloud to no one in particular. "Katerina, I'm sorry. I've been an idiot, but no more hiding behind this damnable pride." He looked at the picture of his fair wife settled upon the wall. "Humility and compassion were always easy for you, but not me. That daughter of our's is right. And I fully intend to rectify my past mistakes. I will not mess this up again."

But even after all the decisions, even after his mind had been made... it still took him over five months to get everything in order and to make it across the ocean, to arrive in Sanc, Tennessee, the small community on the outskirts of Nashville.

~{*}~

Almost a year after the near-death of his son, Sayid Winner found himself standing outside on the curb, looking up at the quaint, cozy little home. He had no idea what awaited him, but he was determined to face it with the same strength his son had faced imminent death... the same courage Katerina Winner had shown.

He was not going to screw this up again.

* * *

(1) Okay, it's a well know fact that Quatre is Arabic in descent. Well... Mauritania, though an African country, is half-Moor, and it is a desert country, and it does have Arabic as it's official language. (and it was once a French colony, so that could explain why Quatre looks nothing like a stereotypical Arab.) And I've gotten tired of Saudi Arabia this and that... it never says Saudi Arabia exactly in the manga or series... so... I've taken author's liberties. Ps... I don't own GW. But I'm sure no one thought I did.

And PS... yes, Quatre's dad's name is technically Zayeed, I believe, but another liberty I took. ^^ Since Sayid actually *is* Arabic and Zayeed isn't. Also the same for his mother's name. Katerina is prettier than Catherine (especially when there's already a Catherine in the series!) And all those other weird names I threw in there are actually Arabic.

^^ please review! I'll give you cookies!


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